


It Might Be More Howl Than Scream

by TW_HP_YD_WB_FANFICS



Series: It Might Be A Little More Than Hate [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, M/M, Pack Meetings, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TW_HP_YD_WB_FANFICS/pseuds/TW_HP_YD_WB_FANFICS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack take a visit to IHOP after their pack meeting. Derek’s in a foul mood. Scott won’t stop moaning and Stiles just wants to make the Sourwolf grin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Might Be More Howl Than Scream

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for how bad I am at uploading. I got wrapped up In school and dealing with personal problems I will try as hard as I can to get these up for you. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the new part, share with friends, colleagues and even parents (although this may end up with you in a mental institute).
> 
> If you didn't know, this series is not in order. For example, although the pack found out about the 'relationship' in the last part, they do not know in this one. This is also why you don't actually know how this all started yet.
> 
> Obviously I do not own IHOP. Haven't even been there.

Stiles’ Jeep pulls up outside of the newly renovated Hale house, his arm hanging out the window as the pack steps out onto the porch, ‘get in losers, we’re going shopping!’ he calls out with a grin on his face.

 

Lydia looks incredibly excited at the prospect, ‘are we actually? I need a new pair of shoes after someone made me walk in the mud in my Gucci's’ she glares surreptitiously over at Derek where the Alpha has an almighty death glare of his own on his face, most probably because of Stiles’ absence at the pack meeting.

 

‘No you don’t and no, we’re actually going to IHOP but the sentiment’s there.’ the guys perk up at this at least while Lydia groans but walks with Jackson to his Porsche as everyone gets in their corresponding cars, Derek riding in his own and not offering a ride to anyone else of course.

 

As soon as the pack enters IHOP they go straight for the corner booth, curved to fit in the space, offering a small piece of privacy and a bit more room then any other booth. They all scramble in, Danny and Alison bringing stools to the table as Scott sits next to her in the booth, Isaac against his side. Erica’s next, Boyd next to her who sits next to Lydia and Jackson, leaving Derek and Stiles who sit on the very end. It’s a squeeze but they do it, just as they do on the massive L shaped sofa in Derek’s living room.

 

The foods comes, Stiles’ eyes gleaming as his mouth waters at the sight of his mountain of pancakes, 4 choc chip and 4 plain with a serving of chicken and waffles by it's side, they’d also ordered a plate of French toast for the middle of the table for everyone to have. Despite how much Stiles had ordered, everyone but the other humans had at least another plate more than him.

 

As soon as everyone starts to took in however, Derek grounds out the first words he’s spoken all day to Stiles, ‘why weren’t you at the pack meeting again, Stiles?’ 

 

Despite his obvious terrible mood Stiles rolls his eyes, ‘I didn’t want to be there.’

 

‘And that gives you the right not to come?’

 

‘Maybe not.’ He concedes, ‘I needed some time to myself.’ Stiles is aware the rest of the pack is listening and he’s no doubt hurt their feelings, ‘I needed some time away from you.’ It’s both the truth and a way to get the pack to stop sulking.

 

‘Whatever Stiles.’ The wince is minute but Stiles sees it, sees the hurt clouding Derek’s eyes for a second and really wants to make him smile again for some stupid reason. He hates Derek. He really does. ‘Just try not to miss the next one please.’

 

Stiles nods his head and agrees, the pack seem astounded that Derek’s let it pass until Scott decides it would be a good idea to speak, ‘How come Stiles is getting this special treatment?’

 

Derek very nearly growls, ‘because I’ve aloud it this once as I might do with you but you wouldn’t want to test that would you Scott?’ he questions and then carries on frowning and Stiles is tired of it.

 

Stiles doesn’t do anything until they’ve all eaten of course, that would just be unsanitary. No. He waits until Scott is done with his constant moaning and moved on to mooning over Allison. He waits till everyone’s enjoying their next coffee, knowing they may be here for another hour or two, just talking before he moves his hand onto Derek’s right knee, letting it lay there as Derek shifts, acknowledging the contact.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to move. Stiles’ finger trails up Derek’s inner thigh, stopping every few centimeters to trace an unknown pattern. By the time Stiles has reached Derek’s zip he knows he’s hard and Stiles smirks behind his coffee cup, his other hand running up and down the seam of Derek's jeans, write over his member. Derek twitches and coughs to hide his groan.

 

Derek looks Stiles in the eye, a warning to stop but Stiles ignores it of course, having too much fun. This is what they do right? When one of them is angry or annoyed, agitated even the other remedies it with sex. That’s exactly what Stiles is doing. While getting to have fun in the process.

 

As Stiles pulls down Derek’s zipper, still looking completely normal, coffee in hand, Derek shivers and his eyes fall shut for a second before he remembers where he is, shooting open again.

 

Stiles’ hand creeps in, knowing that Derek’s concealing his own scent, the way alphas can as it stops the betas feeling the same thing the alpha is, normally anger or panic in times of attack. He can turn it back on to comfort them when they need it. Stiles on the other hands knows that if he gets aroused enough that the pack may actually start to notice Derek will make an excuse for them to go somewhere.

 

Stiles hand moves up and down Derek, knowing just the right pressure and tightness that’s needed to make Derek feel amazing. It’s obviously working as Derek starts to grip the cushion under them, claws out and digging into the pleather as he bites his lip, a hiss of pleasure trying to work its way out.

 

Stiles loves this, loves making the older man squirm under him and make him beg for whatever Stiles wants to give. He loves the feel of Derek’s cock in his hands, hard as steel yet as smooth as velvet. He wants that in his mouth, wants to feel it against his tongue, a heavy weight that makes his jaw ache in the best way. The need feels too much and he places the coffee cup down and flinches out, letting his hand hit the fork that’s inches from the curve of the table.

 

It falls to the floor with a loud clank and Stiles shrugs at the table, ‘Oh God, am I ever not clumsy?’

 

Jackson smirks, ‘Nope. You get worse every year of your life.’

 

‘Oh haha Jackson, you’re so funny.’ Stiles drawls before moving his hand from Derek and smiling at the table, ‘better get that.’ he says before ducking under the table, incredibly glad that there is a cloth over it as he picks up the fork before reaching out his other hand to hold Derek again who’s intake of surprised breath makes Stiles smile. Obviously, he’d even fooled Derek.

 

Stiles moves forward quickly, knowing he hasn’t got a lot of time and breaths teasingly over Derek’s leaking cock before moving to the base and sliding his tongue along the vain under the shaft until he reaches the top. 

 

He takes Derek in his mouth, bobbing once in an unexpected gesture and swirling his tongue along the head, lips sucking and cheeks concave before he moves completely off and back up onto his seat, his oblivious friends not even glancing at him.

 

Stiles turn to Derek, loving the sight of his flushed cheeks and off breathing as he tries not to pant. He glances at Stiles a pained expression of pure want crossing his eyes before he looks determined and picks up a menu and addresses the table.

 

‘My coffee’s cold.’ he lies, ‘and I’m going to make sure they know it as well as confront them as to why they think it’s okay to give an already hyperactive child such as Stiles that much sugar.’ With that he shoves Stiles out of the booth and gets up, menu in front of his crotch and stomps away.

 

‘Could he be any more grouchy today?’ Scott questions.

 

‘Probably.’ Stiles tells him, ‘I’m going to go and make sure the king of the grouchies doesn’t rip one of their throats out. With his teeth.’ Stiles chuckles and the others nod at him, going back to their own conversations as Stiles slips out, not to the staff station because Derek won’t be there but to the toilets.

 

Derek’s in one of the stalls when he gets there and opens it for him when the wolf catches his scent. As soon as Stiles is in there he moves Derek against the wall, keeping him there with his own chest even though Derek can easily move, it’s not the point.

 

‘I’m not a child.’ Stiles tells him, faces close together.

 

‘You wouldn’t have done what you just did if you were Stiles.’ He puts his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and pushes him down, Stiles goes willingly, ‘now suck my dick.’ He pulls it back out, pants and boxer briefs falling to his ankles.

 

‘I’m not sure you should be demanding anything right now Derek.’ Stiles slides his cheek along Derek’s cock, not letting it touch his lips and Derek’s whole body trembles.

 

‘Please Stiles. Please.’ Derek begs.

 

‘Good boy.’ Stiles pulls the werewolves hips forward and away from the wall, smacking his ass before gripping a cheek with his hand, pulling a tortured hiss out of the older man, ‘I’m going to make you grin so fucking big Derek.’ he promises before enveloping Derek’s dick with wet heat, tongue swirling, twisting and curving, dipping into Derek’s slit as the raven haired man squirms above him, knowing he’s not yet allowed to move until Stiles says.

 

Stiles jerks the base, bobbing up and down, lips touching his hand before sucking as he moves up, pulling growls, groans and straight out pornographic moans from Derek. 

 

He pulls off and Derek gasps, cold air hitting his member but its forgotten about as Stiles ducks his head and sucks Derek’s balls into his mouth, hearing the man’s head hid the wall behind him as he vainly tries to keep in long, drawn out groans of pleasure.

 

Going back to Derek cock Stiles stops jerking him and moves both hands on to his ass, moving Derek’s hips forward and backward, opening his throat; clear signs telling Derek to fuck his mouth. The werewolf doesn’t need to be told twice as he grips Stiles’ grown out hair and mercilessly pounds Stiles’ mouth, just like he knows Stiles likes best. Strikes of pleasure slicing up and around his body, he vaguely feels Stiles’ hands leave his butt and the sound of tearing a faint and unimportant sound.

 

It’s why its such a shock when a lubricated finger circles his entrance, tracing his hole before moving one finger inside. Derek pants harder, a litany of curse words falling from his mouth as Stiles works another finger in, and another as he carries on letting Derek fuck his mouth, the same Derek who keeps grinding back and forth to try and get both pleasures at once, ‘Stiles. Please. I need...I need. Fuck.’

 

Stiles knows exactly what he wants, as always and stops Derek’s hips, pushing him back as far as he can while keeping all three fingers in him. Stiles pulls off for a second, fingers stilling as he licks his already glistening lips, showing Derek as he tastes the werewolves pre-come, Derek follows the movement, body so hot it feels like he’s boiling. Stiles stares up at him as his sultry, cupid bow, perfect lips wrap around his cock and glide down to the very base and it feels as though Derek’s looking into an abyss he really wouldn’t mind falling into as Stiles’ whisky colored eyes hold his, as intoxicating as the drink as the brown haired man swallows around him, a flash of white hot pleasure clouds his eyes and becomes never ending as Stiles continues his ministrations around him as his fingers start up again, crooked as to hit the bundle of nerves inside Derek that make him keen on every thrust.

 

The pleasure is consuming, overbearing and too much to handle as all Derek can do to warn Stiles is pull his hair as his thighs twitch, muscles clenching, quivering as he breaths out and his world comes crashing down around him in the best possible way, a tidal wave of pleasure that makes his eyes roll back in his head, his limbs useless, breathless and unable to talk.

 

Someone could do anything to him right now, he thinks and he wouldn’t even acknowledge it, wouldn’t care, especially as he sees stars and watches Stiles swallow his come, eyes closing as if in pure bliss, as if Derek’s come is some kind of delicacy.

 

As Derek closes his eyes, trying to regain thoughts back in to his head, he starts to pull up his clothes but Stiles stops him calmly with a hand on his thigh, ‘not yet Derek, one last thing.’

 

Stiles stands, hand going toward his own pocket and pulling out a plain black butt-plug. He smirks at Derek who stands in front of him, gob-smacked as the younger man holds the – never seen before – sex toy and looks completely evil. He moves towards the raven haired man, mouth at his ear before he says anything, ‘I’m going to put this is your ass and you’re going to keep it in until I see you tonight when I’m going to fuck you into the mattress without needing to do any prep. We can get straight to it and I promise you.’ Stiles stops for a second, voice low and dirty, his small chuckle even making Derek’s dick twitch again, ‘I’m going to make you howl.’

 

Derek wants that, wants it all very badly so he acquiesces when Stiles tells him to turn around and moves his head over his shoulder as Stiles twists his fingers in Derek a few times before applying the lube to the butt plug and sliding it in. Stiles pats his ass when he’s done and moves down his legs, trailing kisses that make Derek’s eyes fall closed at the oddly sweet moment that they never share because it’s not about that between them, as Stiles pulls up clothes, hands flitting around to his front to button his jeans. When Derek turns round though, no sign of the little moment is In his eyes as the younger man smirks and drags Derek out of the stall and they stand in the toilet together for a second as Stiles stares up at him, ‘I did it.’ His smile is soft and carefree.

‘Did what?’ Derek questions.

‘I’ve made you smile.’ his hand reaches up and traces said smile as Derek glances at the mirror and sees that he actually is. It’s a surprise to himself, he doesn’t do it often and apparently doesn’t even notice it when he does any more.

‘Yeah. I guess you did.’ Derek ducks his head and Stiles coughs, fidgeting and moves away from him. That's right. They hate each other. Of course. At least one of them does.

 

*

 

When they get back to the table the pack is up, putting on coats, bill paid on the table. Isaac glances up at them and Derek feels mildly uncomfortable as he remember what's currently in his ass at the moment as he stands with his pack, ’good you’re back. We though we’d have to come find you.’ Isaac smiles and the others nod, ‘where’d you go?’

 

Derek’s about to dismiss the question when Stiles speaks up, well crafted lie already on the tip of his tongue, ‘Derek decided that speaking to the staff wasn’t good enough and he just had to get the manager involved! I suggest we go before we get banned from IHOP.’

 

There’s a chorus of ‘Dereeekkk.’ from the pack as they moan about his inability to be social but everyone does start walking out. It’s nice. Fun even to have his pack around him.

 

When he looks around Scott’s staring at him weirdly so he raises an eyebrow at the teen werewolf, ‘What?’

 

‘You’re grinning. Why?’ He questions.

 

‘Am I not aloud to be happy?’ Derek inquires.

 

‘I guess so but even when you’re happy normally your smiles not quite so....broad.’

 

From the corner of his eye Derek can see Stiles about to open his Jeep, smirking, undeniably impressed with himself as everyone turn to listen to his and Scott’s conversation.

 

‘I guess today’s just been very...sucky.’ Derek feels like laughing (that’s new) as Stiles glares at him, smirk fallen and middle finger in the air, obviously annoyed at Derek’s exploits. Good. Everything’s back to normal again.

 

‘Why are you happy that it’s been a...never-mind, it’s you, I probably don’t want to know why you think a sucky day is good.’ Scott holds up a hand and gets in Stiles Jeep.

 

As Derek sits in his own car and drives back to his house he tries not to think of the hardness in his butt, the one that shifts as he moves. 

 

And then he does try and think about it. Can’t stop thinking of it even but doesn’t touch himself as he gets progressively hard until he’s impossibly hard, waiting for Stiles to get back. 

 

As soon as Stiles opens the mahogany door, Derek’s on him, moving him up the stairs and into the master room where Stiles doesn’t break his promise, takes the butt plug out and pounds the werewolf into the mattress, bed moving, head board crashing and finally....wolf howling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If you liked any part of this then please give me kudos and comment. Also bookmark and subscribe if you would like to know when the next part is up. 
> 
> You could also comment if there is specifically something you want to see and I'll do my best to incorporate it.


End file.
